


Brother's Touch

by thedropoutandthejunkie (elenajames)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Belly Rubs, Body Worship, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-18
Updated: 2015-08-18
Packaged: 2018-04-15 08:30:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4599891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elenajames/pseuds/thedropoutandthejunkie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: I was wondering if I could request Wincest with mpreg!Dean, and Sam being obsessed with the way Dean's body is changing now that he's pregnant? Belly worship is the best, as is Dean being a gorgeous, shy, blushy mess whenever Sam loves up on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Brother's Touch

Dean grunts a little in protests when Sam wraps his arms around him from behind. He gives Sam a little nudge with his elbow so he can keep brushing his teeth, but that only causes Sam to slide his hands lower, down to Dean’s rounded belly. 

“D’m’t S’my,” Dean grumbles around his toothbrush. He rolls his eyes when Sam just nudges closer, resting his chin on Dean’s shoulder. Sam lets Dean go just enough to spit in the sink, reeling him right back in as soon as Dean is done. 

“You look . . “ 

“Bloated?” 

“Gorgeous. Healthy, Dean.” 

“I have stretch marks, man. And flaky ass skin. Not what I’d call attractive.” 

Sam sighs, rubbing little circles on the taut skin of Dean’s baby bump. He looks at his brother in the mirror and can see the way Dean’s cheeks are pink, the uncertainty in his eyes. There’s no way he’s standing for that. 

“You want me to put some lotion on you? It’ll help with the marks and the dry skin,” Sam offers sincerely.

“Just wanna paw at me, ya weirdo.” 

Regardless, Dean grabs his shea butter off the shelf and pads back to their bedroom. Sinking down carefully on the bed, he takes a bit to get comfortable, propping himself up with pillows with Sam’s help. Only when he’s settled does Sam climb on the bed, fitting himself between Dean’s knees. 

A squirt of lotion gets warmed between large palms, then Sam’s smoothing it over Dean’s belly. Dean can feel the sting of dry skin, sighing as the itch eases while Sam massages the lotion in. Gentle fingertips trace stretch marks one by one, cupping and caressing his baby bump. Dean blushes a little when Sam’s hands skim down his sides, highlighting the new curve of his waist, brought on by the pregnancy. 

“God you’re beautiful.” 

Whispered words make the blush flare hotter, and Dean has to close his eyes to escape the sight of Sam, of Sam’s hands on his changing body. It’s only moments before those hands stop their movement, and Dean can feel the shift of the mattress as Sam leans toward him. Lotion-tacky fingers grip his chin, and he opens his eyes to meet Sam’s gaze. To Dean’s horror, he can feel the prick of tears and damnit. He’s not really sure why he’s crying. 

“Baby,” Sam says tenderly, sweet like he always does, and that’s it. A little sob and there are tears rolling down Dean’s cheeks. He wants to swipe at them, angry at the reaction, but Sam just cups his face and thumbs them  away. Just like that, the tension is gone and Dean melts into Sam’s touch. Sam leans in just enough to brush a kiss over his lips, then leans back to finish his work. 

Dean’s still a little sniffly, and grateful when Sam ignores it. He doesn’t like being coddled (much) and Sam’s been awesome about knowing when to give Dean his space. The belly rub is nice though, and Dean doesn’t protest when Sam moves down to rub at sore thighs. Sam sinks lower, nuzzling at Dean’s belly and wrapping a hand around his now-hard cock. 

“God, Sammy-” he chokes a little. 

“Shh, I got you, Dean.” 

Sam strokes slow, but firm, palm slick with lotion. Dean doesn’t last long, never does these days and Sam doesn’t tease. His eyes are focused on Dean’s face, watching the blush spread down his neck, the way he bites his lip to muffle the sounds of desperation, and the way he can’t seem to look away from Sam. Dean’s teeth only leave his lip to let the cry as he comes escape. He spurts over his belly and Sam’s hand, and some primal part of Sam wants to lick it up and spread it across Dean’s skin at the same time. 

“G’on, Sammy. Know you wanna.” 

So taking Dean’s come, Sam jerks himself until he adds his own come to the mix on Dean’s belly. Gingerly, he rubs it in with the lotion, cleaning his fingers on the edge of the sheet before spooning up alongside his brother. He cups Dean’s belly with one hand, nuzzling at his cheek. 

“Need another shower now, bitch,” Dean grumbles, but his lips quirk despite his efforts to hide it. 

“I’ll clean you up,” Sam yawns. “Just, not now.” 

Dean just hums, butting his head against Sam chin as he shifts closer. Sam drags him into his arms, cradling him close so that Dean’s face is tucked against his neck. 


End file.
